The Darkness Within
by Mischivous Purple One
Summary: Voldemort isn't gone, not by a long shot. He comes and goes as he pleases, and does what he deems necessary to stay alive. In this case, staying alive means protecting Harry Potter.
1. Chapter 1

_**M.P.O.: Hello all, and a Happy Holidays, since I likely won't have anything else updated before the next two months are done. *sigh* Writer's Block has hit me hard, for everything. Just got this little brainstorm a few hours ago, wrote it out, and decided to post SOMETHING, so you guys would know that I'm not dead yet. xD Anywho, go ahead and enjoy the fic, I hope you like it. **_

The knife gleamed under the soft glow of florescent lights, a glint of silver covered in red. The liquid was sticky, thick and viscous like chilled tomato soup, but it felt warm under his touch. Specks of it decorated the walls in a mockery of the fine painting hanging nearby, the simple white and red a stark contrast to the bright swirling colors of an Impressionist piece. Eyes the same color as the crimson stains turned, shifting about and examining the masterpiece laid out in front of them.

There were three, so beautiful in his capable hands, where once they had been ugly, a stain upon the world, just as the red was a stain upon the walls. But- he mused, sliding the knife casually down an expanse of unmarked skin- it wasn't complete... not yet. Carefully, he slit open Petunia's dress, using a spell to ravage her womanhood as only the foulest of men would do. Only once he had done this, did he smile and stand back to examine his work.

_Mrs. Dursley had been simple, easily overpowered with her slim figure and high neck. All he had to do was cut the tendons in her knees and watch her crumple, a little bit of magic silencing her screams. She had been laid out carefully, after the tendons in her wrists and elbows had been cut as well, and left to watch as he finished his work._

_Mr. Dursley had been next, and was immensely more challenging. After a moment's consideration, he had found one of the bigger kitchen knives. Another tiny burst of magic ensured that he wouldn't cut himself on the blade, and - with a gleeful smirk- he had plunged said utensil between the 3rd and 4th rib on the right side, puncturing the man's lung and silencing him without the need for magic. Vernon had been left to scramble on the floor, making delightful sounds of wheezing and breathless gasps of pain while He went to find the child._

_Dudley was the easiest by far. He had lured the boy into the kitchen with a simple promise of food and, while his dear mother was watching, snapped his neck in one swift, precise movement. The 300 pound whale went down with nary a sound, his head flopping at an awkward angle. Petunia, mouth open in a scream of unadulterated hatred and horror, writhed on the floor, unable to even lift her arms to save her precious Dudders. Humming softly in appreciation of his handywork, he had turned again to Vernon._

_"Tsk tsk, Vernon. It doesn't become you to sleep on the job, now does it?" He purred, footsteps eerily silent on the usually creaky hardwood. He woke the man with the barest twitch of his fingers, smiling congenially as beady blue eyes fluttered open, only to close again with a soft whine of pain._

_"Ah ah." He frowned, pointing at the man, appearing almost bored with the action. "I said no sleeping. Crucio."_

_It was lovely, hearing the struggled breaths of a man who could not scream, arms and legs flailing about on the floor like a landed fish. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes, basking in the warm rush, the tingle of Dark Magic that made his head spin and his blood spark with the lust for more. Ending the curse with another flick of his fingers, he relished in the smell of blood and fear that permeated the room. It revitalized him, filled him with a strength he had not known in nine years, and gave him the power to do what he wished. Teeth bared in a feral grin, he knelt, raising the carving knife he had plucked from the table, watching the light play off of the blade._

_"I know that Harry can carve a Turkey as well as any man... shall we see if I have inherited that talent?"_

His masterpiece was finished, his play over, at least for now. Carefully, he removed all traces of himself, vanishing the knives, and removing the evidence of blood from his clothing and skin. Then, humming cheerfully, he left them there, stepping carefully and retreating into the cupboard, where he settled on a cot, locking himself in with a simple spell. Tasks complete, he laid back, drifting into his mind and closing his eyes, content.

* * *

><p>Flames danced in the reflection of a mirror, flickering tongues of red and orange that teased at the edges of his sight. Marble columns stood like guardian statues at even intervals, twenty one in all, a magical number. The Mirror stood in a depression, set into the floor with a flight of stairs surrounding it on all sides, also made of the same gray-white stone. Seven steps, more magic, more power, all to protect this one small trinket.<p>

He lifted his hand to examine it, crimson eyes sparkling in the light of the fire, glittering with a dark mirth. The prize was small, a stone no bigger than his hand, with silver veins on an opaque red face. The Philosopher's Stone. A work of immense magical and alchemical skill that took years to produce, and so rare that only one had been made. And it was sitting in his hand. He restrained the urge to laugh, instead tucking the precious gem into his pocket and turning to face his companion. Or would acquaintance be a better word?

The man was tall, much taller than he, with a bald head and wide, vacant eyes. The most interesting thing was the back of his head, upon which sat a face, one with snakelike slits and eyes as brilliant a red as his own. He hissed in displeasure, lifting his lip in a sneer worthy og Snape himself.

"What have you done to yourself, Voldemort? Reduced to piggy-backing on such weak wizards?" He taunted, pacing idly and watching the spirit. "A pity really, you were so strong once, so charismatic, so much _more_. Now? You are nothing. A worm, a sliver of soul that has no place or meaning in this life."

"How dare you sp-" The worm started, narrowing it's eyes to slits and turning the host to see him better, the lifeless limbs jerking with the awkward movement.

"How dare I what, Tom? Speak the truth? Say what you wish not to hear? Come now old man, even you must know that you are weak." He smirked, pausing in his pacing to stare at the parasitic version of the once great Dark Lord.

"You little brat! Crucio!" Red light jumped across the space between them, hitting him square in the chest. His eyes went wide and, laughing, he flew back, slamming into a pillar with all the force of a Giant's fist. Stone crumbled, bones broke, he could even feel the blood running down his face. Still he laughed, eyes closed near to slits and head thrown back against the pillar. Voldemort stared, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Your magic-" He panted, grinning madly, "It reaks of death and blood, the souls of a thousand wizards, muggles, halfbood and pureblood alike. So twisted, dark, delicious..." He was all but purring now, leaning his head to one side and leering at the other wizard. Voldemort looked both interested and horrified, going so far as to step one foot back, keeping his wide scarlet eyes glued to His broken form.

"What... What are you? You are not-"

_/I am not, no. But what I am remains to be seen, doesn't it?/_ He hissed, the serpent tongue slipping easily from between his lips. Voldemort snarled, stepping forwards, only to hiss, freezing and snapping his head to the right.

Voices; three of them, panicked and hurried. He chuckled, a small trickle of blood slipping over cracked lips, staining his mouth red.

"You'd better run, sounds like Dumbledore's coming to save the day. Wouldn't want to get killed again, now would you, Tom?" He bit out, feeling himself slip back, weakening slowly as the injuries of his body began to wear on his concentraition. Voldemort narrowed his eyes and stared a moment longer before wrenching himself free of his host with a startling crack, black mist rising from the fallen body and gathering above it. The spirit hovered a moment, regaining it's bearings, before shooting upwards, impacting with the ceiling and ghosting through it with a soft whisper of wind and magic.

"See you soon, Tom." He murmured, closing his eyes as the brightly robed Dumbledore swept into the room. Releasing himself, he fell backwards, back into the dark abyss that was his mind, to gather himself and plan.

_**M.P.O.: It was supposed to be a oneshot covering all seven years, but I decided to do short little chapters instead. There will only be 7 or 8 in total, and there isn't very much detail or actual plot behind this. It's just something I came up with that was fun to write. Who knows, I may go back and re-write it into an actual story later on. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Again, I'm not dead, and all of my other fics are on Hold until I can come up with something to do with them. Malleus is fine, I'm just stuck on a little part that I need to figure out before I can finish writing the next chapter. RA:MKNB is on hold until i can get a copy of the first book (again ), and outlines are being devised for it in the meantime. The others are in the process of being re-written and will not be updated until I'm satisfied that they're how I want them.**_

_**Next chapter will be posted either on Friday, or sooner, depending upon how many people I have screaming at me to get the next one up. Ta!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**M.P.O.: Hm, the blurb I had for second year was a little short, so I added the one for third year as well. Hope you enjoy! And no, I don't have chapter titles for these, likely won't until it becomes an actual story, that is, if you all want it to become one. Doesn't matter to me, but if you would like it to be an actual story, just tell me and I'll work on outlining it. Should be easier, since I've got the main drabble points already written, just need the filler stuff and a couple other events to add.**_

_**Congrats to Gemini Perevell for being the first reviewer, after getting 99 hits. First reviewer for this chapter gets a cookie and a HP chess set.**_

_Hello, my name is Tom Riddle._

The words inked themselves across the page, bleeding into existence without the use of a quill. He smirked, tapping his finger on the page and considering the small black book. The very same book that had started it all. It really was a waste, waking poor Saiesa and making her go back to sleep, but it had to be done. He could not let Hogwarts be closed, under any circumstances. Decision made, he picked up the quill once more.

_'Hello Tom. I am Lord Voldemort, and you have outlived your purpose.' _He wrote carefully, the handwriting matching the one above letter for letter. Before the ink had even sunk into the page he had snapped it closed, resting the tip of his wand against the cover and closing his eyes.

Dark Magic rose from the book, warping and twisting the pages, though they never ripped or tore. Black mist, reminicent of His last encounter with Voldemort, rose from the small journal, hovering in a ball above the tip of his wand for a moment before shooting forward, latching onto his forehead and driving into his skull. His vision flashed black and a moment of panic almost forced him to release control before he shoved himself back into place, calming his breaths and wiping the sweat from his brow.

The book sat, still and lifeless against the bright red sheets. Thinking, he grabbed the quill again and wrote carefully.

'_My name is Lord Voldemort.'_

Nothing.

The ink stayed, drying slowly on the page. He smirked, running a thumb over the still wet ink and smearing it across the page. One down, five to go.

That night, he crept down to the second floor, slipping into the girl's bathroom with nary a sound. A silencing charm took care of the sound of grinding stone, and he smirked as he dropped into the pipe, hissing a command for the opening to close behind him. Sliding out of the end, he grunted softly, pushing himself up and wrinkling his nose at the mass of small animal bones littering the floor.

"Filthy." He muttered, brushing his robes off and striding forward. He hummed in appreciation of the 60 foot snakeskin lying in front of the entrance and absently gave the password, waiting quietly as the snakes slid back and the door swung open.

/Saiesa?/ He called carefully, closing his eyes and staying in the doorway, listening. The sound of scales on stone echoed back at him, and a loud, curious hissing followed soon after.

/Master Tom? You are early. I was not expecting to be called for another moon at least./ The voice, if that's what it could be called, was soft, feminine in it's gentleness, but sharp at the same time. He smiled, reaching out his hand, fingertips meeting the silky cool of Saiesa's snout.

/It was not I who woke you, dear one. There was another, but he has been dealt with. I'm afraid that you will have to go back to sleep. I cannot let Hogwarts close./ He hissed, tilting his head up, as if to look at her, though his eyes remained closed, safe from her killing gaze.

/I understand. I wonder though, it has been a long while since I have traveled the forest. If you would permit me, I would hunt there until you call again. The little ones are easy prey, but I will not hunt them if you wish me not to./ She shifted uneasily, restless and dreading the return to her slumber. He smiled lightly, shaking his head in amusement.

/I suppose that I can allow it. Use only the tunnels leading to the forest, and do not travel the school ones again. I may have need of you later. For now you shall hunt, grow, and live as you were meant./

/Thank you, Master Tom./ Her tongue flickered over his cheek in gratitude, and he turned, heading back the way he had come, closing the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Dementors. Dark beasts that thrived on one's most horrifying memories, sucking away all of your dreams and desires and leaving nothing but a babbling shell. One of them was enough to make any wizard curl into a ball and weep, unless of course said wizard knew the correct spell. But a hundred? Even Dumbledore would have trouble holding off that number without help. He smirked, twirling his wand idly and watching the beasts mass across the way. The girl had disappeared, too afraid to watch her friend and his Godfather dying. He stayed, a small, satisfied smirk playing about his lips as he waited for the opportune moment.<p>

Ah, the brilliant white light of an unmarred soul. So pure, so whole. It disgusted him. But young Harry would be devastated if his dear Godfather was lost. Sighing softly, he raised his wand, flicking it in a carefully controlled manner.

"Expecto Patronum." He murmured, wrinkling his nose in distate as the rush of magic rippled over him. It was too cheerful, bright and pure, the Light Magic, and the hair on his neck tingled with it's power. His Patronus was massive, brilliant white light shifting and morphing into the form of a basilisk, it's coils looping around him in a halo of magic. The Dementors screeched, retreated in terror as the great snake snapped it's fangs at them, catching one or two in it's maw and swallowing them. Each one gave a shrill scream as it was disentigrated, and the others fled, rotted black robes mere streams in the frozen air.

_/Thank you Kah, you may leave./ _ He murmured to the great Patronus, patting it's snout gently and watching as it faded. Turning slightly, he smirked at the slumped form of Harry Potter, knowing that the boy would never tell anyone what he had really seen.

_**M.P.O.: So that's that for this one. Gonna be a shorter fic than I thought, I've already written the fourth year drabble and it's as short as these. Fifth year should be longer, and the last two as well, plus an extra scene that I have yet to think up. Kinda just writing these as I get the idea for how to do it. *giggle***_

_**Review thanks to: Gemini Perevell, kuchingz, alexandra101, and Dedication to Runes.**_

_**Question answers, for those who reviewed them:**_

_**"What happened to Harry after the death of his relatives?" - Though it wasn't said in this, because they're just drabbles, he was sent to an orphanage for the month before he went to school. After first year, I don't know where he goes, as I haven't worked that bit out yet.**_

_**"What happened when Harry received his Hogwarts letter?"- Not sure what you mean by that, actually, but I'll give it a go. The Dursley's death didn't take place until after Harry had already been to Diagon, as (if I'm remembering correctly) it took about three days for Hagrid to finally get his letter to him and take him there to get his supplies. Therefore, at the time of the Dursley's demise, he already knew he was a wizard, had his supplies, and knew where he was going in September. I put the date of their deaths at about three days after their arrival back to Privet Drive, giving Harry about a month in the Orphanage before he went to Hogwarts.**_

_**"Where was he sorted?" -Gryffindor of course! Harry himself isn't aware of his 'guardian' and won't be for a little while longer. Anything aside from these little drabbles is basically cannon, though if I do write this as a fully story, it will be with my particular flair instead of JK's.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**M.P.O.: Hey all, long time no see. Question answers at the end, otherwise enjoy, even though it's really really short. **_

_**Cookies and HP chess set go to Daemonkiean, as promised. **_

The maze was dark, towering walls of thick brush and vines casting eerie shadows on everything outside of the light of his wand. He smirked, letting the light go out and striding forward confidently, red eyes gleaming in the darkness.

The boy had done well in the first two tasks, utilizing his skill in flight against the dragon, and foolishly waiting to save everyone in the lake. Now it was just the Four, pitted against each other in a battle of skill, attention to detail, and memory. Nasty traps and creatures waylaid the various paths, spells, curses and beasts alike set against them to test their knowledge and courage.

Already he had dispatched a Skrewt, hitting it with a Permenant Freezing Charm and then shattering it with a conjured hammer. Before that was one of the smaller Acromantula's, and a couple of Boggarts. Now he was face to face with a Sphinx, and couldn't decide whether to kill it, or answer the riddle and leave it alone.

"Give me the riddle." He finally said, taping his foot and swallowing a snort of amusement at his small pun.

"An eye in a blue face, Saw an eye in a green face. 'That eye is like to this eye,' Said the first eye, 'But in low place, Not in high place." She recited carefully, watching him through almond shaped green eyes. He considered it a moment before snorting.

"Rediculously easy. The Sun on the Daisies." She bowed her head, moving aside and settling against the wall.

"Correct. You may pass." He shook his head, muttering to himself, and stalked on, smirking as he caught sight of the gleam of silver in front of him. Keeping his pace, he listened, waiting.

Sure enough, another of the Champions hurtled onto the path, freezing in place as soon as they spoted him. It was the Hogwarts boy, Jiggery, or some such thing. Swiftly, almost casually, he flicked his wand, stunning the boy before he could do more than gape at the sight of such red eyes in a familiar face.

"Such a pity." He tsked, crouching next to the teen's inert form. He pulled a scroll of parchment from his pocket, along with a small vial. Wrapping the vial in the short note, he set it on the boy's chest and stuck it there with a charm. Then, flicking his wand, he levitated the boy to the cup. Using a fairly complex bit of magic, he set the boy's hand to hover over the cup and then turned his wand on himself, uttering a short, curse and hissing as he was blasted across the clearing, impacting on a wall at the same moment the boy's hand fell. The cup glowed, and both it and it's bearer disappeared in a swirl of light and a soft popping sound. Smirking, he allowed himself to fall back, drifting back into his mind.

_**M.P.O.: I'm stuck on the blurb for OotP, so I'll give you this little bit and answer a few questions.**_

_**Same name as another fic: YES, this fic has the same name as several other fics. This does not make it a copy fic, or anything less than I was out of imagination at the time I made up the title. When this becomes an actual story I shall change the name to fit it better, but not until then.**_

_**Voldy is piggy-backing in Harry's body?: That about sums it up. As I've said before, these are small drabbles from Tom's point of view and are merely blips of what I may make into an actual story some day. Most of this is stuff I come up with while trying to get to sleep at night, so some details are a little repetitive (ie the being blasted into walls and such), and I will change things around when I get around to writing the actual story. So for now it'll be fairly vague, with hardly any actual plot details. **_

_**If I get enough people telling me to turn this into a fic, I shall at a future point in time. Until then I'm focusing on finishing Malleus Daemonium. Thanks for reading!**_


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